Perceptions
Apr. 29th, 2012 10:17 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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section7mfuFor the UNCLE HQ/Section VII HOWDOWE challenge for May Day.
Summary: They say we are the sum total of our experiences. Some take those experiences and live with them, others live in spite of them. What we perceive isn’t always the truth.
rating: Gen
____________________________________________________________________
Illya Kuryakin stood beside his partner in Alexander Waverly’s conference room. The video screen had just been lowered from the ceiling, and a black and white newsreel began to play.
The announcer spoke, “Moscow has seized an opportunity on the twentieth anniversary of the downfall of Hitler for a display of her military strength.”
It was also a day of significance as this was the first time May Day was being celebrated as major public holiday in the Soviet Union. Many people would attend local military parades and watch the fireworks at night. The biggest parade though and most significant was the one in Moscow’s Red Square.
Veterans wore their medals, displaying them proudly as they headed to the parades and were handed flowers, usually red carnations, blood red representing the color of the Soviet flag under which the veterans had fought.
The single, deep resonating chime of a bell rang out from a church steeple, its echo fading as a car slowly appeared through one of the historical arched gates, crossing the cobblestone expanse and meeting a second car that approached from one of the other gates at the opposite end of what was known to the world as Red Square.
Surrounded by the ancient buildings that made up the walled fortress called the Kremlin, including the famous the onion-domed spires of St. Basil’s cathedral; each car carried a single passenger, a highly decorated Senior Officer of the Soviet Military Complex.
The two convertibles met in the center of the square then slowly turned until they were side by side, driving the length of Krasnaya ploshchadʹ, like a slow dance, halting in front of the regiments gathered there standing stiff at attention as they represented every military branch of the C.C.C.P.
The footage would have been a magnificent sight if it had been in color.
As the vehicles slowed the officers called out their salutes, and each time they received the response...”Uraaa!” from their troops.
When the ceremony had been completed, the nearly six thousand soldiers began to sing the Soviet National anthem. It was a powerful sound as many voices sang in unison as if they were one, single voice.
‘Soyuz nyerushimyy respublik svobodnykh
Splotila naveki Velikaya Rus’.
Da zdravstvuyet sozdannyy voley narodov
Yedinyy, moguchiy Sovetskiy Soyuz!
An unbreakable union of free republics,
Great Rus' joined together forever.
Long live the creation of the will of the peoples,
The united, the mighty Soviet Union!
Napoleon glanced at his partner, detecting a twinkle of pride in Illya’s blue eyes. It was obvious that song stirred something in his Russian heart. He still had a connection to what was had been his home, even though his military superiors had traded him off to U.N.C.L.E. like a piece of tainted meat, no longer of use to them.
One rare time Illya spoke of the day when the victory over Germany was announced on the radio when he was but a school boy. Napoleon could hear slightest strain of emotion as Illya recounted the jubilation of the students and teachers gathered to hear the proclamation.... what he heard then in Illya’s voice was also pride.
And now he wondered if that slight haughtiness remained somewhere deep down in the Russians soul. Though Illya claimed he was an atheist and had no soul, Napoleon believed his partner possessed one, but kept it well hidden, like so many other things.
Tensions were running high between the U.S. and the Soviets; Illya reminded him that should there be a war, he would be obligated to return to the U.S.S.R. as he was still considered an active member of the military. Could it ever come to that, Napoleon wondered? The United States and U.N.C.L.E. had been good to Illya, treating him far better than his homeland, would he go if Mother Russia called?
“My armiyu nashu rastili v srazhen’yakh,
Zakhvatchikov podlykh s dorogi smetyom!
My v bitvakh reshayem sud’bu pokoleniy,
My k slave Otchiznu svoyu povedyom!
“We brought our army to the battles.
We shall brave the despicable invaders from the street!
In battles we shall decide the fate of generations,
We shall lead to the glory of the Motherland!
The anthem concluded, signalling the parade to begin, with the troops passing the reviewing stand. Napoleon looked again at the screen, seeing the faces of more officers and political figures standing above the masses, their eyes focused on the troops as they marched in precision.
“That is Georgy Zhukov,” Illya pointed out a particular man among those on the reviewing stand. “He is a hero of the people, and the savior of Moskva. He led the troops to victory, preventing the Germans from taking the city. He fell out of favor under Krushchev, but I think he has returned again to being, how do you say...top dog.”
The soldiers paraded, marching bands passed, tanks and trucks appeared carrying heavy armaments followed by a prominent and significant missile display. This was the first time the Soviet Union was showing off its rockets and intercontinental missiles that utilized solid fuels, having formerly concentrated on the utilization of liquid propellants for their programs.
“This is what is of major concern to the west,” Waverly interjected, “an obvious display of tactical weaponry that is mobile; our sources indicate that the larger ones have a range of more than a thousand miles. We do not however, know if these rockets are fully operational or if they are prototypes being displayed for propaganda purposes. Our operatives in Moscow have had some difficulty verifying their status.”
This was the first time the Soviet government had boldly put their weaponry and might on display for the world to see.
“If Kremlin is showing them off publicly, then you can count on them being active weaponry. Soviet Union has the knowledge and capability to make it so.” Illya spoke with confidence, but perhaps he was still being influenced by a remnant of his Soviet indoctrination.
“So you say,” Napoleon jabbed.
“So I know.” Illya responded curtly. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, with his chin jutting out.
“Again, with the pride.” Napoleon mused to himself
One of the last images on the screen was that of a three stage missile, estimated in length at 110 ft.
“According to the official Soviet news agency Tass, this is the type used to launch Cosmonauts into orbit,” said the newsreel narrator.
“Well you may need to rethink a few things Mr. Kuryakin as I have just been notified that on your Victory Day, the Soviet Union launched a rocket to the moon. A soft landing was anticipated for an instrument package that was intended to send back data readings, but it crash landed three days later and as of yet, there has been no official word on what went wrong. We will be keeping a close eye on these activities in the U.S.S.R....do you have any problem with that Mr. Kuryakin?” Waverly looked him directly in the eyes.
“Well said young man, thank you.” Waverly said without reservation, knowing his number two agent was being truthful. He picked up his briar pipe, tapping the bowl in a crystal ashtray to rid it of the spent tobacco, and reached for his humidor to refill the pipe. “Dash it all,” He turned the barrel shaped humidor upside down, indicating it was empty. “On your way out could you please inform Miss Rogers that I am in need of a refill.”
“Yes sir,” Napoleon gave him a small nod as he and Illya left together. After delivering the message to Lisa, they headed to the elevator, joining a few people already on it. Napoleon was off to his office, Illya intended to go down to the labs.
Napoleon stepped off at his floor as the doors opened, and it was then he overheard whisperings from behind him.
“Don’t stand too close to the Pinko, you don’t know what kind of germs they carry.”
“Yeah, tick him off and he might blow us up, just like his Commie country wants to.”
Napoleon snarled as he turned, charging the two men and shoving them against the back wall of the elevator.
“If I so much as ever hear another word like that out of your mouths again, you two will be working until retirement at a duty station in Antarctica. Do you understand me....am I clear?”
“Yes, sir Mr. Solo. Sorry sir, we were just joking.” The Section III agents cowered.
“Joking my ass.” He suddenly grabbed Illya by the arm, who had remained completely aloof during the altercation, and pulled him from the elevator.
“Why did you do that, I am going to the labs.” Illya protested, not saying a word about what had just happened.
“I didn’t want you to have any more trouble with those idiots.”
“What trouble?”
“They were mouthing off at you, insulting you. Didn’t you hear them?”
“Oh that? Napoleon, I hear such things on a daily basis, especially when you are not around, as some people become emboldened. There are always whisperings and comments being made behind my back and I have learned to pay them no mind. Even though in truth I am a Communist in the idyllic sense, I believe my fellow countrymen however, have lost sight of what that truly means.”
“Illya you should report it. Employees have no right to abuse you and you have a right to be free of such harassment. This isn’t what U.N.C.L.E is all about, and you have a right to your beliefs just like everyone else.
“Yes I am aware of the ideals of the organization, but those that are part of it are only human and subject to human frailties and weaknesses. What people do not understand they fear, and at the moment I am associated with things that are frightening to them. I have learned to ignore what is said. They however, have not learned to separate me from my country, but I hope someday they will.”
“Illya my friend...tovarisch, I wish that day would come sooner than later.” Napoleon clapped his hand on the Russian’s shoulder in a show of support.
“Spacibo.” Illya finally smiled. “That indeed would be another Victory Day.”
Summary: They say we are the sum total of our experiences. Some take those experiences and live with them, others live in spite of them. What we perceive isn’t always the truth.
rating: Gen
____________________________________________________________________
Illya Kuryakin stood beside his partner in Alexander Waverly’s conference room. The video screen had just been lowered from the ceiling, and a black and white newsreel began to play.
The announcer spoke, “Moscow has seized an opportunity on the twentieth anniversary of the downfall of Hitler for a display of her military strength.”
It was also a day of significance as this was the first time May Day was being celebrated as major public holiday in the Soviet Union. Many people would attend local military parades and watch the fireworks at night. The biggest parade though and most significant was the one in Moscow’s Red Square.
Veterans wore their medals, displaying them proudly as they headed to the parades and were handed flowers, usually red carnations, blood red representing the color of the Soviet flag under which the veterans had fought.
The single, deep resonating chime of a bell rang out from a church steeple, its echo fading as a car slowly appeared through one of the historical arched gates, crossing the cobblestone expanse and meeting a second car that approached from one of the other gates at the opposite end of what was known to the world as Red Square.
Surrounded by the ancient buildings that made up the walled fortress called the Kremlin, including the famous the onion-domed spires of St. Basil’s cathedral; each car carried a single passenger, a highly decorated Senior Officer of the Soviet Military Complex.
The two convertibles met in the center of the square then slowly turned until they were side by side, driving the length of Krasnaya ploshchadʹ, like a slow dance, halting in front of the regiments gathered there standing stiff at attention as they represented every military branch of the C.C.C.P.
The footage would have been a magnificent sight if it had been in color.
As the vehicles slowed the officers called out their salutes, and each time they received the response...”Uraaa!” from their troops.
When the ceremony had been completed, the nearly six thousand soldiers began to sing the Soviet National anthem. It was a powerful sound as many voices sang in unison as if they were one, single voice.
‘Soyuz nyerushimyy respublik svobodnykh
Splotila naveki Velikaya Rus’.
Da zdravstvuyet sozdannyy voley narodov
Yedinyy, moguchiy Sovetskiy Soyuz!
Slavsya, Otechestvo nashe svobodnoye,
Shchast'ya narodov nadyozhny oplot,
Znamya sovetskoye, znamya narodnoye
Pust’ ot pobedy k pobede vedyot...
An unbreakable union of free republics,
Great Rus' joined together forever.
Long live the creation of the will of the peoples,
The united, the mighty Soviet Union!
Be glorified, our fatherland, united and free!
The sure bulwark of the friendship of the peoples!
Flag of the Soviets, Flag of the people,
Let it lead from victory to victory...
Napoleon glanced at his partner, detecting a twinkle of pride in Illya’s blue eyes. It was obvious that song stirred something in his Russian heart. He still had a connection to what was had been his home, even though his military superiors had traded him off to U.N.C.L.E. like a piece of tainted meat, no longer of use to them.
One rare time Illya spoke of the day when the victory over Germany was announced on the radio when he was but a school boy. Napoleon could hear slightest strain of emotion as Illya recounted the jubilation of the students and teachers gathered to hear the proclamation.... what he heard then in Illya’s voice was also pride.
And now he wondered if that slight haughtiness remained somewhere deep down in the Russians soul. Though Illya claimed he was an atheist and had no soul, Napoleon believed his partner possessed one, but kept it well hidden, like so many other things.
Tensions were running high between the U.S. and the Soviets; Illya reminded him that should there be a war, he would be obligated to return to the U.S.S.R. as he was still considered an active member of the military. Could it ever come to that, Napoleon wondered? The United States and U.N.C.L.E. had been good to Illya, treating him far better than his homeland, would he go if Mother Russia called?
“My armiyu nashu rastili v srazhen’yakh,
Zakhvatchikov podlykh s dorogi smetyom!
My v bitvakh reshayem sud’bu pokoleniy,
My k slave Otchiznu svoyu povedyom!
Slavsya, Otechyestvo nashe svobodnoye,
Slavy narodov nadyozhnyy oplot,
Znamya sovetskoye, znamya narodnoye
Pust’ ot pobedy k pobede vedyot!”
“We brought our army to the battles.
We shall brave the despicable invaders from the street!
In battles we shall decide the fate of generations,
We shall lead to the glory of the Motherland!
Be glorified, our fatherland, united and free!
The sure bulwark of the glory of the peoples!
Flag of the Soviets, Flag of the people,
Let it lead from victory to victory!”
The anthem concluded, signalling the parade to begin, with the troops passing the reviewing stand. Napoleon looked again at the screen, seeing the faces of more officers and political figures standing above the masses, their eyes focused on the troops as they marched in precision.
“That is Georgy Zhukov,” Illya pointed out a particular man among those on the reviewing stand. “He is a hero of the people, and the savior of Moskva. He led the troops to victory, preventing the Germans from taking the city. He fell out of favor under Krushchev, but I think he has returned again to being, how do you say...top dog.”
The soldiers paraded, marching bands passed, tanks and trucks appeared carrying heavy armaments followed by a prominent and significant missile display. This was the first time the Soviet Union was showing off its rockets and intercontinental missiles that utilized solid fuels, having formerly concentrated on the utilization of liquid propellants for their programs.
“This is what is of major concern to the west,” Waverly interjected, “an obvious display of tactical weaponry that is mobile; our sources indicate that the larger ones have a range of more than a thousand miles. We do not however, know if these rockets are fully operational or if they are prototypes being displayed for propaganda purposes. Our operatives in Moscow have had some difficulty verifying their status.”
This was the first time the Soviet government had boldly put their weaponry and might on display for the world to see.
“If Kremlin is showing them off publicly, then you can count on them being active weaponry. Soviet Union has the knowledge and capability to make it so.” Illya spoke with confidence, but perhaps he was still being influenced by a remnant of his Soviet indoctrination.
“So you say,” Napoleon jabbed.
“So I know.” Illya responded curtly. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, with his chin jutting out.
“Again, with the pride.” Napoleon mused to himself
One of the last images on the screen was that of a three stage missile, estimated in length at 110 ft.
“According to the official Soviet news agency Tass, this is the type used to launch Cosmonauts into orbit,” said the newsreel narrator.
“Well you may need to rethink a few things Mr. Kuryakin as I have just been notified that on your Victory Day, the Soviet Union launched a rocket to the moon. A soft landing was anticipated for an instrument package that was intended to send back data readings, but it crash landed three days later and as of yet, there has been no official word on what went wrong. We will be keeping a close eye on these activities in the U.S.S.R....do you have any problem with that Mr. Kuryakin?” Waverly looked him directly in the eyes.
“No sir I do not. As you recall I swore an oath of allegiance to U.N.C.L.E. superseding all others. Russia may be my homeland, but my home and job are here.”
“Well said young man, thank you.” Waverly said without reservation, knowing his number two agent was being truthful. He picked up his briar pipe, tapping the bowl in a crystal ashtray to rid it of the spent tobacco, and reached for his humidor to refill the pipe. “Dash it all,” He turned the barrel shaped humidor upside down, indicating it was empty. “On your way out could you please inform Miss Rogers that I am in need of a refill.”
“Yes sir,” Napoleon gave him a small nod as he and Illya left together. After delivering the message to Lisa, they headed to the elevator, joining a few people already on it. Napoleon was off to his office, Illya intended to go down to the labs.
Napoleon stepped off at his floor as the doors opened, and it was then he overheard whisperings from behind him.
“Don’t stand too close to the Pinko, you don’t know what kind of germs they carry.”
“Yeah, tick him off and he might blow us up, just like his Commie country wants to.”
Napoleon snarled as he turned, charging the two men and shoving them against the back wall of the elevator.
“If I so much as ever hear another word like that out of your mouths again, you two will be working until retirement at a duty station in Antarctica. Do you understand me....am I clear?”
“Yes, sir Mr. Solo. Sorry sir, we were just joking.” The Section III agents cowered.
“Joking my ass.” He suddenly grabbed Illya by the arm, who had remained completely aloof during the altercation, and pulled him from the elevator.
“Why did you do that, I am going to the labs.” Illya protested, not saying a word about what had just happened.
“I didn’t want you to have any more trouble with those idiots.”
“What trouble?”
“They were mouthing off at you, insulting you. Didn’t you hear them?”
“Oh that? Napoleon, I hear such things on a daily basis, especially when you are not around, as some people become emboldened. There are always whisperings and comments being made behind my back and I have learned to pay them no mind. Even though in truth I am a Communist in the idyllic sense, I believe my fellow countrymen however, have lost sight of what that truly means.”
“Illya you should report it. Employees have no right to abuse you and you have a right to be free of such harassment. This isn’t what U.N.C.L.E is all about, and you have a right to your beliefs just like everyone else.
“Yes I am aware of the ideals of the organization, but those that are part of it are only human and subject to human frailties and weaknesses. What people do not understand they fear, and at the moment I am associated with things that are frightening to them. I have learned to ignore what is said. They however, have not learned to separate me from my country, but I hope someday they will.”
“Illya my friend...tovarisch, I wish that day would come sooner than later.” Napoleon clapped his hand on the Russian’s shoulder in a show of support.
“Spacibo.” Illya finally smiled. “That indeed would be another Victory Day.”
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